


Colors of the Season, the Colors of my Heart

by Boundlessmignonette



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Seasonal, fall/autumn, musings, short drabble in which Grantaire ponders, underlying emotional themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boundlessmignonette/pseuds/Boundlessmignonette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when winter came knocking, settling a fine mist over all that he saw and shrouding the world around him in coldness, it would always be autumn in his heart, so long as he had Enjolras to ward off the worst of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors of the Season, the Colors of my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small, fluffy little drabble I wrote while thinking of the season to come. Hope you enjoy! c:

Bright leaves crunched under both men's feet, the sound mingling with the wind that ruffled their hair and sent both of their scarves fluttering around them in swirling arcs. The cobblestone streets were adorned in fierce colors, painted with the fallen leaves the trees have decided to shed for autumn. Around them people bustled about, coffee in their hands and squealing children clinging to their arms, babbling excitedly about whatever had caught their interest. 

Grantaire couldn't help but be enthralled; the fiery shades of orange and red reminded him so much of the man at his side, of his golden curls and personality ablaze. It felt warm, bringing light to the chilly shades of blacks, blues, and greens that he so often felt swamped in. Just as the hand holding his own in a comforting grip blocked out the cold nipping at his fingertips. A smile graced his lips and he shuffled a tiny bit closer to Enjolras, swinging their arms as they continued to walk. Even when winter came knocking, settling a fine mist over all that he saw and shrouding the world around him in coldness, it would always be autumn in his heart, so long as he had Enjolras to ward off the worst of things.

As if his mind could be read, Grantaire felt his hand being squeezed, and although Enjolras had not turned to face him, there was an impossibly warm smile on his face when he turned to look up at him. Warmth spread through Grantaire's chest at the sight, the sudden tremble in his knees threatening to reduce him to a fumbling mess on the floor. He couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt so loved, and the realization had him reeling. It baffled him that this man had single-handedly broken through every single defense Grantaire had ever built around himself, his heart. But he didn't just tear them down; he ripped them apart and built them up stronger, chased away the darkness with a radiating light Grantaire never imagined anyone to be capable of producing.

Content to look down at their joined hands, Grantaire was struck with discovery: if Enjolras resembled autumn, then he could not wish more strongly for any other season.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea stuck in my head and figured to post it here since I'd posted it to my blog.
> 
> Feel free to come say hi on [Tumblr](http://boundlessmignonette.tumblr.com) ! c:


End file.
